Insidious Plans

The eyes widened in disbelief. "8,000? That's a considerable mercenary force."

She nodded decisively, the weight of her words heavy with pride. "Indeed, we are a coalition of various clans, forged into a formidable army."

Colonel Greylock leaned in, curiosity etched on his face. "Continue. Tell me about the most esteemed regiment in your army."

The voice quickened as she shared the details. "The First Regiment is our heavy infantry, commanded by the stalwart Buckman. This regiment consists of 2,000 battle-tested clad in heavy armor and wielding powerful weapons. They form the vanguard, trained to endure the fiercest assaults and keep pressing forward in the face of adversity."

The interrogator scribbled notes furiously, his pen scratching against the parchment. "Do you possess a cavalry?"

Scarlet paused, weighing her words carefully before responding. "The Third Regiment serves as our cavalry, under the leadership of the swift Lieutenant Jillian. With 2,500 riders, they are agile, mounted on strong steeds, and armed with lances. Their speed and precision allow them to exploit vulnerabilities in any formation."

The expression darkened as he considered the implications. "And what of the remaining regiments?"

Eager to share the details, she continued rapidly. "The Second Regiment consists of our archers and scouts, commanded by the sharp-eyed Kroft. This unit is 1,000-strong and skilled in long-range strikes and reconnaissance. The Fourth Regiment, our siege engineers, led by the ingenious Theron, comprised 1,500 soldiers in fortification and destruction. Finally, the Fifth Regiment is led by the elusive Lord Roldan, featuring 1,000 soldiers who are considered our most lethal operatives."

Eyes narrowed further, intrigued. "Tell me about the personal guards of Lord Roldan. How many are there, and what sets them apart?"

The voice dropped as she revealed, "Guards are revered as the 'Shadow Rage.' This elite group is known for their exceptional skills and unwavering loyalty. They are the pinnacle of combat excellence."

The interrogator leaned forward, intrigued. "And what fuels their loyalty?"

Scarlet swallowed hard, feeling the weight of the truth. "They are fanatically devoted to Lord Roldan. They would follow any command without hesitation. Each member brings unique abilities to the group. The Shadow Rage is divided into two specialized units: a formidable infantry unit of 500, led by the seasoned Anrod, and an equally skilled cavalry unit of 500, commanded by the swift and fierce Morgan."

Expression darkened his brow furrowing as he processed the information. "A thousand soldiers, you say? That's quite an impressive personal guard. What exactly is their purpose?"

Scarlet, her words tumbling from her lips in a hurried rush, responded with urgency. "The Shadow Rage acts as his personal protection detail, but they serve a dual role as an elite strike force. They're meticulously trained to undertake high-risk missions, ensuring his safety at all costs."

The pen swiftly across the parchment scribbled notes with haste. "And what can you tell me about their equipment and training?"

Scarlet continued her tone eager. "The Shadow Rage honed their skills in advanced combat tactics and excelled in hand-to-hand combat. The cavalry unit is particularly fearsome, with Morgan leading the charge, a formidable presence on the battlefield."

Demeanor shifted his expression chilling as he contemplated the implications of her words. "Take her away. I must inform the Priestess of this formidable new threat."

As Scarlet was forcefully pulled away, Greylock turned to the interrogator, his expression hardened by resolve. "Prepare a detailed report," he commanded his voice steady and authoritative. "We must act swiftly to thwart these insidious plans."

The interrogator nodded solemnly, his face shadowed with concern. "Aye, Commander. We won't underestimate this threat."

Just then, the High Priestess concluded her ancient rite, the air thick with the lingering scent of incense and the whisper of sacred chants. The doors flew open, and Greylock strode into the chambers, his eyes burning with a fierce inner fire as if ignited by an unquenchable urgency. He marched forward, tension radiating from his every movement.

"High Priestess," he said his voice a low rumble that held an undercurrent of danger. "I bring grave news."

Her eyes widened in shock, her heart racing. "What news?" she managed to ask, her voice trembling slightly.

His jaw tightened, every muscle coiled as if preparing for battle. "The traitor, Scarlet, has divulged everything. She was sent to infiltrate our ranks, to gather intelligence, and wait for the signal to strike."

Breath caught in her throat. "What signal?" she demanded, dread creeping into her voice.

Greylock took a step closer, urgency etched into his features. "The signal was a call to launch a full-scale attack. The enemy troops are marching toward us, High Priestess. We must rally our defenses, or we risk being caught unprepared."

Their face drained of color, the stark realization gripping her like icy fingers, but she swiftly steadied herself, determination glimmering in her eyes. "How much time do we have?" she asked, her voice a blend of urgency and authority.

He paused, the weight of uncertainty settling heavily in the air. "I can't say for certain. Scarlet did not pinpoint the timing but hinted it would be imminent. We must brace ourselves for the worst and strategize for battle."

Mind surged with a flurry of strategies and contingency plans, each competing for attention. "Summon the council and our top generals," she commanded her tone sharp and unwavering. "We need to unify our defenses and be prepared to confront the enemy head-on."

Greylock acknowledged her directive with a firm nod and turned to leave. Her voice halted him in his tracks. "Wait?"

"Yes, High Priestess?" he replied, turning back to her, curiosity mingling with concern.

Her eyes met his with an unyielding stare, a fiery intensity flickering in their depths. "Ensure the traitor is properly secured," she said her voice low and commanding. "We cannot risk her escaping and alerting the enemy." The weight of her words underscored the urgency of their situation.

His face contorted into a fierce snarl, an expression filled with unyielding resolve. "Don't worry, High Priestess. She won't be escaping anytime soon."

On the sun-soaked training grounds, Lieutenant Kaleb cut an imposing figure. His lean, angular face was sharply defined, and his stinging emerald eyes had an unsettling intensity. His long antennae swayed slightly in the gentle breeze, harmonizing with the shifting shadows around him. Clad in a suit of dark armor, he blended into his surroundings, giving him an almost spectral presence. His antennae twitched with an uncanny awareness, constantly attuned to the world around him.

Standing atop the foundation, he surveyed the rows of his soldiers with a discerning eye. Before him lay a sea of disciplined ranks, their armor glinting like polished steel under the radiant sun, each surface reflecting patches of blinding light.

"Eurymes, form up!" he barked, his voice resonating across the grounds like a crack of thunder.

They sprang into action with remarkable precision, moving like one cohesive unit. They quickly gathered into tight, shield-walled clusters, each formation resembling a formidable "tortoise," shields overlapped with such mastery that they created an impenetrable barrier, glistening like the scales of a mythical beast.

"Forward, march!" Lieutenant Kaleb commanded, his voice slicing through the air like a sword.

The soldiers moved in unison, a well-oiled machine, their shields locked together in a formidable wall. The sun glinted off the polished surfaces, creating a shimmering barrier against the sky. Kaleb observed their advance, their swords held at the ready, muscles taut with determination. This was the essence of their formation, a glimpse of an ancient strategy that withstood the test of time, as impenetrable to arrows and spears as the earth beneath their feet.

"Now, rotate!" he shouted, his voice echoing with authority.

In perfect harmony, the soldiers pivoted on their heels, their shields shifting seamlessly to maintain the protective wall. Kaleb nodded, satisfaction coursing through him like a warm tide.